Bittersweet Love
by Whatever Crap Comes Out
Summary: It's been a year since what was probably the lowest point in Kurt Hummel's life. And now, he's finally ready to talk about it. Trigger Warning: Abuse, domestic violence, a lot of that kind of stuff. Rated M because it's dark as hell.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: So... I felt like writing something dark so I decided on Klaine abuse. It's going to be told from Kurt's perspective, as he's writing all that happened. He'll be all nervous and going off about random stuff alot, but just deal with it.) **

So. It's been a year since the incident. And I've been seeing a doctor and all that good stuff. It hasn't been helping as much as they said it would, but I honestly don't think I'll ever be the same again. What happened was just... Horrible. But now that it's been a while, it's finally time for me to tell someone my story, even if it's just my laptop, told through the sounds of fingers clicking throughout another sleepless night. It'll have lots of tangents, and back tracking, and parts of it just won't make sense. But I need to get this all out, and soon. I guess I should really start by introducing myself.

My name is Kurt Hummel. I am currently 19 years old, and I WOULD be a sophomore at NYADA right now, if it wasn't for what happened. This is kind of hard to write this down, but I feel as if I need to, in a way. It'll hopefully make some of the heaviness go away, at the very least.

It started as a fairy tale. The kind my mom used to read to me before she.. Before she passed. Yeah, I'm one of those sob stories with a dead mom and yadda yadda. But yeah, it started in my Junior year of high school. I was 17, and this particular year had been a living hell for me.

I guess, to make sense, I should mention that I'm openly gay, and proud of it. I've been out of the closet since my Sophomore year of high school. But even before then, people kind of sensed something. I was one of those guys who actually put effort into his physical appearance, using a mix of designer clothes, moisturizing every night, and all-natural product. Even in middle school, the time where you kind of figure out who you are and all that happy crap, people were hostile because they knew that I was gay. I didn't really have that many friends. There was maybe two or three: Tina, Mercedes, and Artie. Tina was a shy Goth girl with a horrible stutter. Mercedes was one of those types of girls who wasn't afraid to tell it like it is, but that didn't make her many friends. Everything about Artie screamed "NERD", from his glasses to his sweaters, to his love for video games. Many a weekend were spent at his house, attempting to play whatever game Artie thrusted at me. Plus the fact that he's a cripple probably had something to do with it.

So yeah. That's my middle school life in a nutshell. Onto high school. In my freshman year, my own personal Satan moved to Lima, Ohio: David Karofsky. He was the typical douchebag: Tall, a bit chubby, armies of mindless cronies willing to do whatever he desired... You get the point. He picked on almost everyone, the only exception being pretty girls. But I was the one who he singled out. The first time he shoved me against a locker, I brushed it off as a simple accident.

That was my first day of high school.

I had a total of one class with Dave (thank god), and, of course, he sat right behind me every day. He kicked my seat, threw stuff at me, all that stuff that annoying assholes do.

I'm going on a bit of a tangent, sorry. I just want to get everything out. All this pain and anger that has been building up inside of me for so long.

My only escape was Glee Club. Sure, we sucked horribly. Sure, the guy who ran it was a creepy pedophile who had a bad tendency of wearing sweaters around his shoulder like a boy from a private school in England. But none of that mattered. Whenever I was on stage, singing, I felt alive. I felt as if I could fly...

There was one other beacon of hope in my life: Finn Hudson. He was also a football player, but not as much as a douche as the others. Finn was tall, handsome, muscular... Not to mention as straight as a board. My little schoolgirl crush on Finn was one of those things I just tucked deep inside, right next to my sexuality. But it kept me going.

The next year was, at first, basically the same as my Freshman year. Same people, similar classes, Glee club, the pedophile, Finn, Dave, all that.

Then, Will Schuester took over the Glee club. Basically everyone quit except me, Tina, Mercedes, Artie, and a girl named Rachel Berry.

Rachel was probably one of the most annoying girls anyone could possibly meet. She was loud, cocky, and thought that the very ground she touched had magical properties just from her walking on it. She was, in simple terms, a bitchy diva.

The New Directions (or Nude Erections, as our competitors called us) still sucked. We got artificially colored-and-flavored slush thrown in our faces daily. To everyone's surprise, Finn Hudson joined. Rachel was immediately all over him, to the point where it was borderline creepy, despite the fact he was dating Queen Bee Quinn Fabray, who stung with cruel gossip and pornographic bathroom drawings. But that's enough about them. This is MY story, and they don't play a part in it.

That year, I came out of the closet. I had Mercedes to help me through it, which was really great since my dad wasn't exactly ecstatic with the idea. And, of course, as soon as the word got out to the student body, my life basically skyrocketed. Everyone was cruel. I got tripped, shoved into things, stolen from, everything you could think of.

Karofsky was the absolute worse. He was just... He was just...

Sorry, I'm having trouble typing. Simply put, he made it seem like his main goal in life was forcing me into suicide.

But I had Glee Club for that. They supported me, even the cheerleaders and jocks of the club. It really helped. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't even be here right now.

So that year went by, and I survived it. Next came junior year. Same deal. Glee club, Dave being a douche, singing...

Junior year was rather funny. For Sectionals that year, one of our opponents were the Dalton Academy Warblers. Dalton was one of those schools with a reputation. It was an all-boys boarding school where a majority of the student body was homosexual.

Being the only openly gay Glee Club member at the time, I was the one who was sent to spy on the Warblers. I got to the school, feeling more awkward as I ever had in my life, and the first person I see... Is him. He looked like an angel sent from above, with his short stature, dark hair, hazel eyes, and... That ass. That ass...

The person I'm talking about is none other than Blaine Devon Anderson. The reason why I'm in the state I am currently in.

I don't think I can really type anymore about this right now... I'm just going to go try to get some form of rest. Tomorrow I have to go to my therapist, and because I'm poor, I have to see him at about five AM.


	2. Chapter 2

Back again. I left off last night on Blaine and mine's first meeting. I was sent to spy, yadda yadda. When I got to Dalton, I saw my very first Warblers performance. Blaine sang the lead of Teenage Dream. I could have sworn right then and there that he was an angel sent from Heaven above. Despite my best efforts to blend in with the Daltonites, I stuck out. Blaine, along with two other Warblers named Wes and David, caught me, and I was terrified that they were going to beat the crap out of me, but they didn't. They were extremely civilized, and that was the first time I considered transferring to Dalton.

A few days after my first visit to Dalton, Blaine and I were on the path of friendship. We texted almost constantly, and we basically knew each other's life stories within a week. I told him about my problems with bullies, and he tried to convince me to transfer to Dalton, for my safety. Sure, with anyone else, this would have seemed a tiny bit creepy. But Blaine was different. He seemed to genuinely care.

I did transfer to Dalton a few weeks later. But not just because of Blaine.

The day after I went to Dalton, Dave Karofsky kissed me. His bullying to me was due to his closeted homosexuality. The thought makes me almost laugh. And then, Dave not only continued to torment me, but he also threatened my life. I told my dad and the school this, and my dad immediately transferred me to Dalton, with money we didn't really have.

But at least at Dalton, I wouldn't be risking my life just by walking to Chemistry class. Not to mention Blaine. Perfect, angelic Blaine...

I boarded at Dalton, as it was a few hours away from Lima. I even got to room with Blaine. Because of this, we grew closer and closer, to the point of being best friends.

The first incident with Blaine happened about three weeks before I left Dalton. I woke up in the middle of the night because I was having an extremely realistic wet dream. Yeah, I know, too much information. Deal with it. I woke up before I could jizz myself in my sleep, because it's nearly impossible to get jizz off the sheets at Dalton.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was a pair of arms wrapped around me. It wasn't exactly a bad feeling, but I'm not one who likes to be touched, especially while I'm sleeping. I looked over and saw that it was none other than Blaine, sleeping in my bed and cuddling me. I shook him gently, and he shot awake.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I just heard you making noises and thought you were having a nightmare and I just thought-"

I quickly cut him off. "It's fine. Just ask me next time."

Of course, all of that is a hazy memory, so it may have just been a dream. I don't know for sure, but either way...

I think that's about enough for tonight. Until next time, faithful laptop.


	3. Chapter 3

The best (and in retrospect, worst) day of my life happened when I was making a coffin for my dead bird. After Pavarotti (my beautiful yellow canary-a real Warbler, if you will) died, I sang Blackbird for him. Blaine, as he said, fell instantly in love with me when I was singing.

That same day, Blaine found me alone in the choir room, decorating the bird's coffin. He kissed me, and from then on, we were boyfriends.

Sounds like a dream come true, right?

Wrong.

At first, it was the best thing I had ever experienced, falling in love. It was better than getting a standing ovation in front of millions of people. It stayed like that until that summer.

Blaine became obsessive. He barely let me out of his sight, and when he did, it was almost constant texting. I didn't find it THAT creepy, though, because I DID love Blaine. He was sweet to me, he didn't pressure me, and he made me feel like a king. So I just let little things like that pass.

August of that year, things took a turn for the worst.

It was a few weeks before school started again. Blaine was planning on transferring to McKinley, to be closer to me. I didn't mind. It was like an adorable romantic comedy.

It was also what led to our first major fight.

We were both in Blaine's room, going through his clothes. Sure, Blaine was very fashion-forward, but he needed my advice on what not to wear to a public school crawling with homophobes. We were going through his large collection of bow ties when Blaine came across a scarf. It was ugly and puke green with red flecks, and it honestly looked like vomit.

"Kurt, try this on." Blaine said, handing the scarf to me.

"Um... No thanks." I said, taking the piece of cloth and holding it by the corner in between my thumb and forefinger.

"Why not?" Blaine asked. A strange look was coming across his face.

"It's... It's not scarf season yet?" I said, internally wincing at the questioning tone in my voice.

"So? You can wear it when scarf season rolls around. Come on, Kurt. It'll go great with your eyes."

I shook my head. The look on Blaine's face grew ever so angrier.

"Try on the goddamn scarf." Blaine growled. Growled. Blaine. The angelic boy who kissed me after my bird died and serenaded me with Katy Perry hits.

"What... What's wrong with you?" I asked, throwing in a soft whimper.

"Try. It. On."

I whimpered again, but shook my head. Blaine grabbed my wrist, tightly. He glared at me, and I looked away. "I'm not wearing it." I whispered.

Blaine rose his free hand that wasn't grasping my wrist and struck me across the face. I yelped in pain, and pulled away.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I demanded, running to the other side of the room. Blaine instantly melted. He approached me again, and raised a hand to my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for another slap-or worse. But instead, he stroked my cheek with the gentlest of touches.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace.

I debated pushing him away and leaving, never to go back again, but instead, I melted into Blaine's arms.

Oh, what a mistake that was.


	4. Chapter 4

That slap was the tip of the ice berg. Blaine basically believed that he could get away with treating me however he wanted, and a hug or a kiss or sex would make up for it. And I let him believe this. He would beat me and tie me up when I refused to go places with him and he had horrible punishments. A majority of them included "toys". I would rather not get into detail.

In the beginning of my senior year, Blaine got the lead in the musical. The director told him to get laid, but I wasn't ready. So... Blaine forced me. He got drunk and just went too far.

The day Blaine was taken away was probably the scariest thing I ever experienced. It started with an argument. This time it was over a top Blaine got me. It looked like something my grandmother would wear and I just couldn't even stand looking at it. I told Blaine, and I made sure to be more firm than I usually was, because I somehow thought that would have an effect. It didn't. My confidence pissed off Blaine so much... And he had a pocket knife. His brother, Cooper, had given it to him as a birthday present about a month ago. Blaine had shown it to me like it was an infant. I nodded, and then spent the next week having nightmares about it.

Back to that day. Blaine had bought me the hideous green shirt. I told him I wasn't wearing it. He said it would go with my eyes, and I, like an idiot, kept refusing. I could tell he was getting angrier and angrier.

Finally, I told him I would dump him for some guy named Chandler if he didn't quit. That pushed him over the edge. Blaine threw the shirt onto the ground, and then he shoved me to the floor. I tried to ask him what he was doing, but words wouldn't form. He sat on top of me, and pulled his knife out.

I sat there, silent and paralyzed with fear. This was not going to end well. I knew it.

Blaine said that if he couldn't have me, no one could, and held the knife up to my face, right by my eye. Despite the panic running through me, my mind went to Sebastian Smythe throwing the rocksalt slushie in Blaine's face. I don't know why, it just did.

I was aware of a sharp pain, followed by a warm liquid running down my face. After that, I blanked out.

From what I heard, my stepbrother Finn just so happened to walk into the house right then. He had tackled Blaine to the floor, and knocked him out. He then called the police, and I was rushed to the emergency room while Blaine was taken to prison.

I had lost my eye, and all that was left of my sanity that day. Since then, I have tried to live a normal life. But during the day, I couldn't escape the stares my eye hole gets, so I eventually stopped going out.

At night, I couldn't sleep without nightmares. They were all the same. Blaine on top of me, holding the knife, and the sadistic look on his face. So I eventually gave up on that, too.

But a part of me still loves Blaine. This makes it all a thousand times worse.

It was nice to write this all out, even though no one will ever read it. I regret to inform you, faithful computer, that this will be my last day on this earth. I just don't know what to do anymore. Normality will never be an option, and doctors won't work. Tonight, my body will be found, along with a note. So good bye.


	5. Chapter 5

**THE LIMA TIMES **

VICTIM OF ABUSE SCANDAL FOUND DEAD

This morning at around 5 AM, a local park ranger who chose to remain anonymous, found the corpse of domestic abuse victim Kurt Hummel, 19, dead in the forest.

Hummel was found hanging from a low tree branch by a length of rope, along with a note simply staring "I can't take this. Good-bye".

As a recap, Hummel was the victim of domestic violence at the hands of Blaine Anderson. Anderson was arrested approximately a year ago after gruesomely cutting out Hummel's eye. He is now a patient at McKinley Insane Asylum.

The death appears to be a suicide, but authorities are looking into all possible causes.


End file.
